Dualities
by Maribel Maki
Summary: After besting Link in battle, the man born for only that purpose must learn to live for something else.  Rated M for later chapters. /Yaoi in later chapters/
1. Chapter 1

First fic in a long while... feel free to tear it apart in con-crit. I could use the suggestions!

Also, for copyright disclaimer (as in I don't claim to own the Legend of Zelda or any of it's content) please see my profile. Thank you very much!

On with the show!

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Earth and blood – the basest components of life served always as the best foundation for the Old Magic. Over time, the art of magic has degraded into gaudy flashes of light and pungent tonics, little more than glorified tea, slapped with the label 'potion'. Such cheap imitations bear only trace remnants of the powers the Old Ones wove their magic with. The merest suggestion of the methods of Old Magic have become taboo, though nonetheless they have been and will always be the most powerful of any synthesis of man.

The synthesis of materials is complex; the ritual weaving of energy even more so, and the smallest imbalance will result in catastrophic failure. There have been many; their remains littered the floor. As such, the only successful creation is, by the very definition of success in magic of this volatile nature, perfect. A statue made by molding the potent clay of earth and blood to a frame of feather, leather, and bone. However, alone this is but a grotesque statue, the mere shadow of what it will be.

It is a violation of the very laws of nature to create a life from nothing. Basic physical principle demands that no matter can be created or destroyed, and the same holds true for the energy required to animate this organic doll. The Caster has failed many times. She has become quite knowledgeable as to what should be avoided. Typically speaking, a sacrifice must be made to breathe life into the golem, but by the same laws of nature, birth out of a death is an abomination. This creation must be more perfect than the equation of this alchemy required. She has found a manner in which to make this possible.

True, the equation, to be balanced, still requires a death, but nowhere in the vast tomes of knowledge is it stated the death had to be forced. The Caster is old. She is dying, some disease beyond even her grasp eating her living heart. Such is the fate of humans gifted with such magical prowess – man was not meant to hold such power.

She lights her final candle, and whispers words not meant for any human to hear, let alone speak. It catches, rises brilliant, and she lays at the feet of her last, perfect creation, holding the flame to one of its feet, and lets the candle draw her life into it, instead of drawing her spirit to the peaceful lands where mortals go to rest.

Too late does she realize her mistake. When she has gone, who will teach this creature? Who will care for it? She had poured her very soul into her work, love that she never had the opportunity to give a child of her own, and there will be no one to continue in her stead once she is gone. She knows it will take years until the creature awakens, and she knows no one will find him in that time. She dies with regret.

When the creature finally opens its eyes, there is no one. Just dark earthen walls and the smell of iron, though it cannot identify it as such just yet. It has no frame of reference. It is a blank slate, an infant born into the body of a man with all a man's intelligence, and no idea how to use it. It is then that the first living being it ever sees, and in fact the first thing it ever beholds other than those earthen walls, steps into its line of sight.

Had the Caster known how wrong she was, she would not have been relieved that her creation would be found and taught. Had she any idea the type of man who would find it, she would have wept, and then she would have destroyed it.

A being such as this, whose finder had never bothered to grant a name, just a rough description, was completely malleable. Had he had any concept of like and dislike, he would have liked to call himself 'Dark', for somewhere in his impressionable psyche he found it distasteful to be named simply as a counterpart to another. He lacked the knowledge of the concepts necessary to articulate this, even to himself, so he simply referred to himself as 'Dark', though never aloud. He, in fact, barely ever spoke aloud. There was no need to. From the time of his advanced birth, he had been taught all he knew for a single purpose: defeat his counterpart. If he found this distasteful as well, in his odd manner of identifying feelings that were alien to him, he never said so. The only other person he had ever been in contact with was the man who found him, and he could never be considered gentle, especially in light of anything that could be perceived as rebellion. To avoid the harsh punishment so characteristic of this man, Dark spoke only to learn language. He never used that language, as even a cry of pain would agitate his captor further.

His life revolved around learning to kill. Though he, as a perfect creation, needed no physical training to strengthen muscles that were already more than sufficient to defeat his opponent, nonetheless, his captor forced him through drills until he could endure no more, and beat him mercilessly when he finally succumbed to exhaustion. Though a creation, he was made to be human, and still felt pain. He could still be wounded, still scar.

And scar he did. When his captor was not inflicting torture upon him for his perceived failures, he was placed in battle again and again with creations unlike himself, reanimated skeletons and ghosts. He was wounded again and again, until he learned the dance that all swordsmen eventually must learn, or perish. Finally, when no foe could land a blow on him and battles ended with them all slain at his feet, and even his pitiless captor lacked the energy to oversee his week-long exercise drills, he thought he might be released. It had been seven years.

He was contained in a different prison instead. It was a room of illusions, small and made of stone but appearing as a vast lake with a single island bearing a lonely, stunted tree at its center. Here he waited many long months, alone, unchallenged, and left only with the promise that upon his opponent's defeat he would be granted true freedom.

He spent his time examining his reflection in the false lake's surface. He had only known the art of killing in his years before, and with no overseer to strike him for losing his focus, his mind was left to pursue that which interested him. He was fascinated to learn that his appearance was nothing like that of his captor. Where his captor's skin was an olive so intense it was almost true green, his own was fair as ivory but seemed to be hidden behind shadow despite the brightness of the room. His captor's face was strong but difficult to look upon without some measure of revulsion, and his instead was finely-boned and pleasant. Instead of the matted shock of red hair that his captor bore, he instead had soft, fine ebony hair. The only similarity seemed to be in the red of their eyes, but while his captor's were narrow and calculating, his were large. Had he a notion of what wonder was, he would have recognized it in his own eyes as well.

Ever his thoughts would return to his goal, defeating this man he had never met before. He understood it meant freedom for him, but he began to question why his captor might want to kill this man, and why he himself would not do it. The Caster had been a master of her art; her creation had resisted the attempts of his captor to make him a mindless tool. Leaving him alone with his flawless mind would be his greatest mistake. Dark wondered at the implications of killing another. He could understand that it would cause great pain, as he himself had endured that in hundreds of mock battles. He had never died himself, so he could not truly understand if it brought an end to such pain. No one had ever told him. His captor certainly had not. He imagined that death would end pain, as it looked rather much like sleeping, and sleep was the only respite he ever received, brief and long overdue as it was.

Still, he wondered at how it would be to kill one who didn't know him. He had endured pain of a different sort when wounds were inflicted on him by those twisted creatures he fought in order to prepare. He had not understood why they had wanted to harm him, nor why they seemed unaffected by his pain. He wondered idly if he was the only one who felt that sensation. He certainly did not want to inflict it on anyone else, but reasoned that he would to avoid it inflicted upon him.

It was still many months before his opponent appeared, but by then he had come to a decision: his freedom was important, and he would fight for it, but only if necessary. He watched as his counterpart surveyed the room, even so far as to check the door opposite of the one he entered from, despite it being very obviously barred. Dark felt for the first time what anyone else would have identified as pity. He had already tried that route many, many times. It was then that his counterpart turned around, and Dark spoke his name.

"Link," he said, and was startled at the sound of his own voice, though he did not show it. He had not heard anyone's voice in many months, and his own had not been used for years.

Link drew his sword and readied his shield, saying nothing. Dark did not draw his weapon, instead held out his hands. Neither spoke for long minutes. Neither was used to speaking, least of all to negative mirrors of themselves.

"Will you fight, then?" Link asked. Dark did not recognize the option to surrender in his voice, and had he recognized it, would not have forfeited his freedom for it. The fight was essential to his liberation.

"If it is necessary," he replied. He readied his own sword, a weapon seemingly comprised of shadow, but was merely enchanted steel. The two clashed.

Link was skilled, but battle was all Dark had ever known. True, he had landed several blows on his shadow, but Dark seemed to be just that to him: a shadow. Link had been slashed, stabbed, and knocked down at least half a dozen times for each blow he landed on Dark. Unlike Dark, he grew tired. The battle had been long, and he had been fighting legions of monstrous creations right until the time he walked into his domain. He fell to one knee, and froze when he felt the cold tip of Dark's sword on the back of his neck.

Dark had made a realization. He was so like his creator, the Caster. At no point was it ever stated in his captor's oath that he had to kill this man. His captor had said, 'Defeat Link and I shall grant you your freedom.'

"Yield," said Dark, and did not move. Nor did Link. He said nothing.

"Yield!" Dark demanded. This time there was a hint of desperation in his voice, and the cold steel was lifted from Link's neck. Confused, Link turned to see the face of the man who had bested him.

The world went black as Dark landed the heavy pommel stone of his sword against the back of Link's head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there! I have a quick update speed this time. I can't promise they'll all be this quick, but I was a writing fiend this weekend. As such, my betas weren't available, so expect some revisions here as they have a look at it. Incidentally, if anyone would like to beta for me, please send me a PM ^_^. I love betas just as much (if not more) than I love con-crit reviews. I could ALWAYS use input. After all, how could I get any better if no one ever pointed out my flaws?**

**As always, for a full legal disclaimer as to how I do not own any of the legend of Zelda franchise nor do I intend to use any of it for monetary gain, please see my profile.**

**With that, I'll be quiet, nobody clicks a fic link to hear the author babble, anyway.**

**On with the show!**

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When he came to, the first think Link noticed was that the endless stretch of misty water had vanished. In its place were stone walls, just like the rest of the Water Temple. The second and more pervasive thing to catch his attention was that his head was pounding, particularly where the hilt of his opponent's sword had struck him.

In a flash, he was up, weapons drawn and ready to fight. The dark mirror of him was already gone. He calmed marginally, and tapped his hat gently to wake his fairy companion, and she emerged in a soft chime like that of bells.

"Link?" she asked.

"Where is it?" he asked her, equal parts alarmed and confused.

"Gone," she replied. "He knocked me out, too, though I can't remember how."

Link paused for a moment, shrugged, and replaced his sword and shield. He had a temple to get through, and he figured he could consider the mystery of his shadowy counterpart a little later.

"Be on your guard, Navi," he told the fairy. "If it reappears to attack, alert me." She nodded and fluttered about Link's head, and the pair continued on through the now unbarred door.

The glorious thing about being the approximate color of shadows is that it makes it that much easier to hide in them. Dark had not gone at all, but had in fact retreated to a dim corner of the room. He had initially thought he hadn't killed Link because it was not absolutely essential, and it displeased him now that he hadn't. Not because he really _wanted_ to kill the other, but for the fact that it was more of a sort of tickle in his mind he couldn't identify that stopped him than any sort of logic. He could not identify this sensation. He'd never known any sort of pity or mercy, though he was aware of what the terms meant. He supposed that being told over and over that he was to exhibit neither of them did not necessarily stop him from doing so. Even still, the concept did not quite match the feeling that stilled his hand. He would have liked to think on it more, but he was compelled to follow his fair-haired rival. So he followed Link and his noisy ball of light through the temple, keeping to the shadows, watching with increased interest as Link maneuvered through the place he'd called home. When he entered the chamber where Morpha reigned, Dark gained access through a duct in the ceiling, and watched with a sort of wonder at how Link stayed just out of reach, considering the creature, before pinpointing its weakness and making short work of it.

Dark recognized that he was impressed, though he was a little baffled at how he had been beaten so easily when he could defeat Morpha with such ease. He supposed it was unsettling to fight one's doppelganger. He had found it unsettling, at least. Though several hours of tracking Link through the temple had led him to believe they were not as similar as he originally thought, and definitely not in appearance. Aside from the obvious differences in pigment, their faces were not quite the same. Link's ears were a bit longer, though Dark's tilted upwards more and were a bit sharper at the edges. Dark also had a bit of a jagged scar cut into the edges of one of his. Link's face, while certainly not round, had a bit of an innocent softness to it that Dark lacked, and where Link's eyes were wide, Darks were a bit narrower, and tilted slightly upwards at the outer corners. Their mouths were lightly different, too. Dark had slightly longer and shaper canines than Link. Link was also taller and broader that Dark, though Dark was no less strong for his stature.

He supposed they were similar enough to cause Dark discomfort at the idea of killing Link, but he didn't quite think that was all that bothered him. Introspection was new to him, but since his captor had only taught him right from wrong as he saw it, it left plenty of room for interpretation, and virtually no bias for some of the more peripheral aspects of supposed moral ambiguities. As such, he found it distasteful to cause permanent damage to things he found to be aesthetically pleasing, and this extended to people. He knew very little about Link's personality, but he did know he was not unpleasant to look upon. The potential for egotism in that realization did not escape him, but he deemed it unimportant. At least, it caused him no discomfort.

With Link having vanished in a column of blue light, Dark decided he would make his way out of the temple. He had never been outside that he was aware of, only housed by various shades of stone. The closest thing he'd ever seen to the outdoors was the enchantment cast upon the room he had guarded. He took a breath, swam for the temple gate, and was astounded to see the surface. The sky amazed him, uncontained as he was in the walls of man and the earth. And when the sun rose a scant few seconds later, he was nearly blinded by its radiance. He could not fathom something so bright, and the warmth heating his forever chilled skin. It was like being born again, and for the first time in his life, he experienced the completely alien feeling of joy. The water of Lake Hylia rose, cool and clear, carrying him upon its surface.

Had he a mirror, he would have seen the strange charcoal cast that always shadowed his skin sliding off into the water like a sheen of oil and evaporating into the air like smoke. As he did not, it was only on his exposed fingers that he discovered that beneath the magic that had hovered just over his flesh his skin was a pale alabaster.

He was compelled to lay in the water and enjoy the sunlight for quite some time yet, but as he caught movement near the island in the lake that so closely resembled the one in his room at the temple, he ducked beneath the surface and swam to the other side of the tiny island, climbing out and taking refuge behind the stunted tree there as quietly as he could. He was somewhat relieved to find that the figure in various shades of blue and white had not seemed to have seen him. He studied this one, too, as closely as he studied Link. Here their eyes were strikingly similar, and they were of similar builds, but not much else could be determined for the cowl that covered this one's face. He was another blond, that much was clear, but it startled Dark to see another with red eyes. He wondered if they were common in Hyrule.

He watched this person and Link exchange a few words, learning in the process his name was 'Sheik.' He noted with some degree of dissatisfaction that Sheik could pull a better disappearing act than Dark could before turning his attention back to Link. He was now settled almost lazily against the pedestal in the center of the island, his boots, tunic, and hat laid out beside him to dry in the morning sun.

Link himself was aware that Dark had been following him. Dark's entire basis of study had been combat, not stealth, and it certainly showed when he had tried to track Link silently. He hadn't done too terribly, Link reasoned, especially since he had ears trained to pick up any sounds of a would-be attacker. As dark had not tried to attack him again, he had not bothered to attack him, either, and simply let him follow him, though he was ever-aware of his presence. He decided now would be a decent enough time to alert the other to this fact. It wasn't as if his sword hilt wasn't brushing his knuckles anyway.

"Come out," he said. This was no suggestion. Navi lay lounging in the sun, but she was truly on alert as well.

Dark emerged from behind the tree, hands open and slightly away from his hips to clearly state _I am not armed. _He didn't say anything though, and Link didn't see anything about his posture that suggested he was going to attack. Which was truly baffling, considering he fought for his life against this same…wait, wasn't he a shadow a few hours ago? Link shook his head, and tried to take in this new information. Dark was very clearly a Hylian, one who bore striking similarities to himself, to boot. He had of course noted these similarities in their first encounter, but without the shade of magic over him, it was clear that dark was not his mirror at all, regardless of coloring. He shook his head again, this time to clear distracting thoughts.

"What do you want?" he demanded. Dark stared. It was a question he hadn't quite considered. What did he want? He had been following Link out of sheer curiosity, no goal or intent in mind. He slowly reached behind his back, and Link was up in a flash, sword at the ready. Dark held up his free hand in a gesture of calming, and in a deft movement unhooked his sword and shield and tossed them on the ground. Without the enchantment, they were ordinary dark steel. He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

Link was completely at a loss at what to do in scenarios like this. This man clearly did not want to fight, but neither did he seem to want to talk. In fact, as Link stood poised to defend, Dark simply sat down in the grass of the island and stared at him, fascination plain across his features. He idly ran his hands over the grass, and his attention was immediately off Link and onto the flora. Sighing, Link holstered his sword and sat down, too, unmindful of the grass that may stain his leggings. It wasn't as if they hadn't seen worse.

"What do you want?" he repeated, more of a question this time than a demand. Navi had taken to swirling around Dark's head, but he ignored her completely, though whether out of complete lack of interest or some other reason was anyone's guess. He glanced up at the question, and his eyebrows drew together as if it were the most complex question anyone had ever asked him.

"I want to learn something else," he said. His voice was a bit raspy, most likely from disuse, Link supposed, but it was a bit deeper than his all the same.

"Other than what?" Link asked.

"Combat," Dark replied.

"That leaves quite a few options…" Link began, and was a little surprised at himself. Here he was having a conversation like he would over tea with someone who had tired to kill him a scant few hours ago.

_He didn't try to kill me, _Link reminded himself with a bit of wonder. This person was a conundrum. He cleared his throat and began anew.

"I mean, what do you want to learn first? If you're unfamiliar with horsemanship, Lon Lon Ranch is to the north of here, and if you want to learn archery, there's a shooting range in Kakariko to the far northeast. There are plenty of people there who can teach you Hyrule's history…" Link trailed off at the expression on the other man's face. He looked completely overwhelmed.

"Ah… let's start with your name. You must already know I'm Link."

"I don't have a name, exactly. I call myself 'Dark'. No one else has ever called me by a name," Dark said. It was the longest sentence he'd ever strung together.

"Alright…" Link said, a bit apprehensively. "What do you know about, then?"

"Combat," Dark simply repeated.

Link shook his head in utter disbelief. Based solely on the conversation they'd just had, Dark didn't know the first thing about anything other than battle, and then only an isolated occurrence with one opponent. It wasn't as if Link was the best teacher, either. Locked away for seven years of his life, he had completely missed the experience of adolescence. He supposed Dark must have, too, just by the way he spoke.

He was at an impasse. He couldn't leave this man alone here, he'd certainly die. He knew nothing about how to survive outside the confines of the temple, that much was clear, and death from exposure was a very real threat in Hyrule. Neither could he very well take him, along, though. He had duties to perform, duties that would be made that much more difficult by looking out for another, especially with the possibility that Dark could betray him. Navi was competent, quick, small, and most importantly, could be trusted. She could handle herself and Link did not have to watch for any potential betrayal on her part.

However, Dark was equally self-sufficient. Link had witnessed such, as he had actually been defeated in battle by him. He seemed to have lost the will to fight Link entirely, too, or he would have come at him when Link had declared his presence known. He didn't think Dark would be conniving enough to kill him when he was unarmed and unprepared, especially considering he had bested him in a fair fight and had not ended his life.

Link considered for long moments. Luckily, Dark seemed to have no want for patience.

"Dark," Link said, and the other looked up from the grass. "You may come with me, but know that it will be at your personal risk. I cannot guarantee your safety, but I think it's the best course of action under the circumstances."

Dark had never smiled before, and as such it was a strained, painful looking thing. But it was a start.

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**an addendum:**

**to the person who put this story on their alerts, thank you very much ^_^. I didn't want to call your name out in public forum, but you know who you are. Thanks again!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there y'all!**

**Wow - y'all who reviewed are just really sweet folks, I want you to know. I got the review emails at work, and it really did brighten up my day. Thanks for those who pointed out the errors in it, too - my beta just got back to take a look at it. I proofread, too, but I always manage to miss things, so it's best I have two sets of eyes.**

**Apologies for the long delay, it's taken me forever to get around the glitch in the update on the site. For anyone else who gets an 'Error 2' when they go to edit an existing story, if you go up to your URL bar and change 'property' to 'content, it'll let you through.**

**Anyways, thanks again, and on with the show!**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX  
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Leaving Lake Hylia was the only easy thing Link had done in over a week. It became glaringly apparent to him how little Dark actually knew the moment they were in Hyrule field and Link attempted to show him how to mount a horse properly. Dark had taken that opportunity to run headlong into Epona's flank and fall unceremoniously into the dirt.

It was everything Link could do not to laugh until he ended up on the ground as well. He dismounted his mare and held out his hand to his companion. It surprised him to learn that Dark could actually blush, light though his coloring was. Dark took the hand up, scowled, brushed his knees off, and went running at Epona again.

And promptly bounced off her flank a second time.

This time Link did laugh, though he did have the good grace to look at least mildly ashamed of himself for doing so. He helped Dark up yet again, and grabbed him by the arm when he went running at the horse for a third attempt.

"I'd say that approach isn't working out so well," he said, trying and failing utterly to hide a smirk. "Here, watch me." He approached Epona, patted her neck fondly, and in a fluid motion placed a foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over the horse to land neatly in the saddle. He then offered his hand to Dark so he could climb upon the saddle as well.

He was a quick student; Link had to give him that. Having been shown the correct way to do this once, he was able to get on the horse with little further embarrassment. However, and as if the little demonstration of how to properly fall into the dirt hadn't been enough to prove his lack of equestrian skill, Dark nearly fell off Epona as soon as she began break into a walk. Link sighed, and considered abandoning riding anywhere with Dark, but Hyrule field was vast and they wouldn't make it far on foot. Epona whickered impatiently, and Link turned over his shoulder to see Dark at a very obvious loss as to where to put his hands. He shook his head, exasperated.

"Grab the sides of my tunic," Link said. "I have the pommel and the reigns, so you won't fall unless I do." Dark didn't look remotely comforted, and in fact, looked confused. Link tapped the protrusion at the front of the saddle and shook the leather straps in his hand to clarify.

"Pommel and reigns. Reigns control the horse's movement. Pull right, she goes right. Pull left, she goes left. Pull back on both sides, she stops. There's more to it than that, but those are the basics," he said, and at Dark's somewhat worried look, he said, "I won't fall. Neither will you."

Dark nodded. He was taciturn, a fact that Link couldn't decide yet whether he was grateful for or aggravated by. He gently spurred Epona onwards, a destination very clear in his mind. Dark held on for dear life, clearly terrified of horseback travel. Link was a bit surprised that Dark hadn't tried to attack Epona on sight. It wasn't as if every other creature he'd ever encountered hadn't tried to kill and possibly eat him, depending on the nature of said creature. Link supposed that because he approached his mare first, Dark has not considered her a threat. He was not stupid, and in fact possessed keen perceptive ability. He was simply painfully naive.

_Perhaps 'naïve' isn't the right word. Generally naïve people don't attack, or even know how to, _Link thought. _Perhaps 'inexperienced' suits him better. _Possessing better qualities of self-reflection than Dark, however, Link knew it was dangerous ground to tread to accept the shade as harmless. Though he did wonder why he found it so difficult to continue to classify him as potentially dangerous, at least to him. He was well aware how dangerous he could be provided correct circumstances, usually an instance where battle was required. Yet unwilling though he was to surrender the idea that Dark meant him harm, and logical though it may have been to keep hold of that assumption, he was more and more reluctant to do just that. What troubled him the most was that there was no _reason _for this kind of reluctance, with the exception of affection, and that was certainly not the case. True, Dark's complete lack of worldly experience was somewhat endearing, but it did nothing to alter the fact that Dark could kill him if the mood struck him, even if Link were armed and ready. It was certainly hard to feel affection for something that posed such a threat, no matter how charming its display of ignorance outside of combat.

Dark, on the other hand, had little room for such complex insight at that moment. He was instead focusing his thoughts on praying to the Goddesses that he did not repeat his experience of landing in the dirt, as he imagined falling from a mount traveling at this speed would both hurt quite intensely and also break several bones. In between mumbling ancient Hylian curses every time he chanced to open his eyes and begging Nayru to protect him from his obviously insane traveling companion, he spotted a large circular compound atop a hill not terribly far away. By the time he began to consider where it was they were headed, Link had slowed Epona to a slow canter and they were approaching the compound's gates. He caught the word 'ranch' emblazoned on the arch over their heads and his already pale skin blanched to an almost white. Link had said that he could learn about horsemanship at a ranch, and he already knew he didn't like horses much.

"Dark," said Link, jarring Dark out of his dread. "Let go, please." So involved was Dark in his trepidation that he hadn't realized that they had stopped and that Link would have dismounted already had he not been clinging to his tunic for dear life. He let go and flexed his cramped fingers experimentally, watching as Link slipped gracefully out of the saddle. He followed suit, and though he wasn't quite as nimble, he fared alright. He was too grateful to be upon steady land to care too much. Then again, he sensed Link's intention, and it made him nervous all over again.

"You mean for me to learn to ride one of these things alone?" he asked. He struggled to keep the panic out of his voice.

"I do," Link said. "I can't keep having you ride tandem; I need more freedom of movement so I can attack from horseback. It would also be helpful if you could attack from there as well."

Dark understood this well. He was a liability. If he prevented the hero from attacking, he put his life in danger. What piqued his interest more, though, was if he successfully learned how to ride a horse, he would be useful. His entire experience in social interaction had been one of servitude. With the man who had trained him, it had been forced. It occurred to him now that he could _choose_ to serve another. After all, he was free of his obligation: he had defeated Link in battle.

The idea both frightened and thrilled him. Here was a freedom of sorts within the bounds of obedience he was so accustomed to. Choice was a liberation that had never been offered to him before. He could choose here to refuse to learn to ride the large hooved beasts and be left to his own devices, or to accept Link's challenge and become more useful, both to himself and his blond counterpart. He had stated that he wanted to learn things, and it was still his desire. He found, however, that he was still unwilling to take action without approval. He shrugged this off. In time, he would learn that, too. Link's statement of intent was good enough. Dark would learn to ride.

"I will learn, then," he told Link, and Link smiled. Dark was envious of that smile. He had not yet learned how to make his face brighten like Link could. The only smile he'd ever seen before had been one of calculating cruelty, and he had not bothered to imitate it. He found it perverse. He cast these thoughts aside with a slight scowl, as he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Link had walked to the edge of the buildings that formed a sort of corridor here and beckoned Dark to follow. He approached a lovely girl with bright red hair and a good-natured face, and they began conversing like old friends. Dark supposed they had known each other for some time, though the concept of friendship was still completely alien to him. She referred to him as 'Grasshopper' on occasion and would touch him frequently and casually throughout their conversation, sometimes with an open hand, sometimes with a gentle punch, depending upon what Link said. He studied her, and when she turned her attention to him, he found her smile to be open and carefree, rather like Link's.

"I'm Malon," she said, "and I'll teach you to ride yet. Link says you've got yourself a bit of a fear of horses. Figures you would, Epona's the most stubborn girl we've ever had, seems to only like Link and myself. I'm surprised she let you anywhere near her, let alone ride her."

Dark blinked. It wasn't as if her words were hard to follow, but that he'd never heard someone say so much at once before. It was a bit overwhelming. She seemed aware of this fact, and clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh, I talk too much anyway," she said brightly, and indicated a cream-colored gelding. "That's Abrax. He's much more … cooperative than Epona. Just as fast, though, and just as loyal once he gets to know you. Go on! Go say hello!"

Dark crossed the corral and approached the gelding with hesitation, wary of a bite or kick, and was surprised when Abrax not only allowed him to stroke his neck but turned to nuzzle his hand. He looked to Link and Malon and found that though they had returned to their conversation, they were both keeping a wary eye on both Dark and Abrax. Abrax seemed content to let Dark pat his side all day, and Dark was about to try climbing into the saddle when he heard a voice on the other side of the corral.

"You! What are you doing here?" it demanded in a low hiss. Abrax whinnied in annoyance, and Dark peered around the horse to seek out the source of the voice. It was one of the ranch hands, an awkwardly proportioned man with a lopsided mustache and the unmistakable signs of someone recently released from an enchantment. Dark had never seen him before, but he recognized those subtle signals: the dazed eyes, the flushed cheeks, and the horror of realization of what he had done while enchanted written all over his face.

"I'm learning horsemanship," Dark replied, and stared at this character. Because of where Abrax stood, Link and Malon could not see him, and because of the distance, they could not hear.

"But you – I've seen you before – you're Ganondorf's puppet! Why are you here? Have you come to collect me?" the man demanded. He looked outright terrified. Dark frowned at the mention of his captor and, until recently, master.

"I have not. I do not know who you are," Dark said. "And I have fulfilled my obligations to that man. I am no longer bound by his will."

"Do you think it's that easy? That he'll simply let you walk away? Not while the Hero still lives!" the man was near tears, practically wailing.

"Have you not escaped his wrath?" Dark asked.

"He will be back for me too! That horse – Epona – was supposed to be for him!"

"And yet he has not come, nor does this place have any remnants of his hand upon it. I wonder why that would be," Dark mused. He was no longer interested in the man's fearful blather, and quickly mounted Abrax.

"He hasn't come because the Hero of Time touched this place. Whether he is unable to return or because he is afraid of the Hero, I do not know," the man said in a hushed whisper.

"Then I have the perfect traveling companion," Dark said, and turned Abrax's reigns in the way Link had described. He marveled for a moment at how easily the gelding responded, and realized he had no concept of how to move forward. He sat for a few minutes, feeling foolish.

"Squeeze his flanks with your legs," the ranch hand said suddenly. "And turn your toes out so your heels make contact. Try clucking your tongue, too. He responds to that." Dark turned over his shoulder to acknowledge the man. He seemed quite a bit calmer and rather apologetic.

"What is your name?" he asked. He had not been denied knowledge of common courtesy and respect in his training, as his former master was particularly specific on how he was to be addressed.

"Ingo," the man replied.

"Thank you, Ingo," he said, and followed the ranch hand's instructions. Abrax took the command winningly and started in a soft trot toward where Link and Malon stood. Malon nearly jumped for joy.

"Oh, very good! We'll make a horseman of you yet!"


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay on this one, y'all. Life took my schedule and went, 'silly you, you can't plan things!' With any luck, installments will be coming faster now.

Thank you to all who read/reviewed, and to all who added me on alert. Y'all make my day :)

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As it turned out, Dark was a competent equestrian given a fair bit of practice and a mount less temperamental than Epona. Abrax responded easily but was every bit as fast and agile as Link's russet mount, just as Malon had said he would be. The good woman had flat-out refused to let them leave that evening, insisting that Link and Dark stay for dinner and bunk at the ranch for the night. Truthfully, Malon probably would have been happy to have them stay forever, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that one night would be the full duration of their stay. Dark reasoned that perhaps she had tried to offer Link extended houseroom before this night and had been refused.

Aside from being a veritable chatterbox, Malon also had a fair hand at cooking. If she was uneasy about Dark, or even curious about his origins, she did not give the slightest hint. She spoke to Dark with the same friendliness she showed Link. Ingo, unsurprisingly, kept his distance. He said nothing regarding Dark and in fact said little at all. Based on Link and Malon's nonchalance, and that it was difficult to get a word in edgewise on the talkative red-head, this behavior did not seem to be unusual for Ingo. Furthermore, since Link wasn't much more for conversation that Dark, the rather one-sided dialogue suited them both fine. Dark was quite pleased at the speed he was picking up expressions. He had not previously realized that a mere nod of the head or movement of the eyebrows could count for much, yet it seemed to be Link's primary method of communication. He watched Link and Malon's faces throughout dinner, completely unaware of the wonder displayed on his own.

"Goodness though, I'm tired!' Malon finally exclaimed. Dark thought it was less that she was tired and more that she had just caught Link trying to conceal a yawn behind a dinner napkin. She tipped him a knowing wink. Dark thought Link might have pulled off this ruse, had the dinner plates not been cleared half an hour prior and had Link not been a particularly tidy eater anyway.

"Fire's been on for the bathwater since before dinner, so it should be plenty hot by now. I imagine you'd like to clean up?" Malon asked. Link's face was the very picture of gratitude, and Dark must have looked ecstatic. Hot bathwater was not a luxury he had ever been afforded.

"Thank you, Malon," Link said, and rose from the table. He caught Dark's glance and flicked his eyes toward the stairs. Dark stood to follow.

"Go on, then!" she laughed, and flicked her apron at them. "Don't let me keep you!"

"Thank you again," Link repeated. Dark bowed to Malon and she curtsied back, giggling, before he disappeared after Link up the stairs.

The bathroom was huge for such a small building, dominated by a large tub that could have easily seated six people. Link, having most of his adult life lived alone, began to disrobe immediately. Dark did the same. Shame was foreign to both of them. It was not, however, foreign to Navi.

"For Din's sake, gentlemen!' she cried, and her light as well as her face went red. Both of them turned to her and sheepishly hoisted their trousers back up.

"Oh, as if I cared…."she said. She was answered by perplexed stares. "Never mind, on your heads be it," she said, and flew out the nearest open window.

"I wonder what that was about," Link mused, and started the pump which would draw the bathwater from the boiler below. Dark said nothing. He wasn't sure, either. As soon as the bathwater started running the room began to steam anyway and thus limited his visibility. Besides, he had figured Navi couldn't be blushing over the fact that they were unabashed, it made no sense. They were both Hylian, and male, so what difference could it possibly make?

All the difference in the world, it so turned out. Initially, so distracted by his joy at the feeling of hot water and clean skin, Dark considered nothing else. When it came to lounging, though, as neither was at a want to get out of the warm sanctuary of the tub, he had time and reason to consider plenty.

He had seen but one other living man in his life (he did not count Stalfos, of course, animated bones was all they were), and he was not anything he wanted to look upon for long. He had not been permitted to, in any case, and he considered this fortunate. Here, however, was a creature of beauty. He knew that much, and it did not occur to him that this thought process might have turned Navi a shade of magenta had it been uttered aloud. No one had ever told him, and Link certainly wasn't objecting. Both of them were unaware that staring was probably not the best manners. Subtle etiquette had not been part of the rough curriculum Hyrule had afforded either of them.

Navi had settled back on the windowsill, the boys' dignity preserved by the steam and bubbles in the water. Here she saw Link with a bald look of fascination in his features, Dark's face mirroring the expression. She sighed. She knew little of the dark one's past, but she knew of Link's. Here was a man (_nay, a manling, man merely in stature, _she thought), robbed of his formative years and left to shoulder the burdens of this world. She had heard their exchanges, and found they had a loose fraternity in this. Dark had no childhood, had been robbed of his as well. She was of little use to them insofar as helping them regain that lost time. Fairies live too long, and near immortality has a way of forgetting what eighteen was like. Hylians lead entirely different lives than the fey, at any rate, and she was female.

So she merely watched them watch each other, weeping in the silent and undetectable way that the old have when they can only stand by and watch a tragedy unfold upon younglings who would not hear their counsel were they foolish enough to present it.

"Your ear," Link said suddenly. Evidently the silence had begun to bother him. "What happened?"

Dark felt for his ears, for the scar he knew was there. A bite. It had been a bite. Who had so scarred him? He could not recall. So he shrugged.

"And your back and arms. How did that happen?"

Here Dark was actually puzzled. He had not been so blessed with a mirror in his watery prison, and the pool made a poor substitute for work such as this. He stood from the tub and went to the vanity in the corner (Navi made no protest, merely averted her eyes). He was startled to see that he had scars nearly the full length of his back, a neat pattern of thin white lines. Similar scars, though shorter, lined the backs of his upper arms.

"A flail," he said. "Cat-of-nine-tails. Do you know the word?"

Link winced. "No single battle did that, not while you wore a tunic," he said. He ran more hot water into the cooling tub while he considered his next words. "Would you tell me some of your tale? Not all, if you don't have the wind, but I would hear as much as you have breath for."

Navi beamed hopefully from the windowsill as Dark slid back into the tub. There was compassion here, and while that was good for Dark, it also served Link well. Perhaps the world would not be so cruel to these two, or perhaps they would find the kindness Hyrule had withheld in each other.

"I –"Dark began, and found he did not know how to start. Where did his story actually begin? He had not bothered to think of it until now.

"I was born in the dark," he said, using his first memory as a basis. "There was a man there, and I understood his words. He took me from the dark, and across more of it, perhaps miles of it, and then into another dark place. He bid me defeat you, and win my freedom. And so for seven years I learned how to defeat enemies. When I performed poorly, there was the flail. When I performed well, there was respite. He never bid me kill you, only defeat you."

Link had gone paler than Dark. "This man was…?"

"He bid me call him 'Master', but his name was Ganondorf."

Link's reaction was quick, but very quiet. Never one to be completely at ease, his sword had rested at the edge of the tub. Dark was disappointed he had not noticed. One moment, Link was resting in the water across from him. The next, with deadly speed and accuracy, he had his fingers around Dark's throat and his sword ready inches from Dark's nose.

"I should end you here," he hissed "Navi, move."

Navi had been just as quick and fluttered in the space between the sword's point and Dark's face. She may well have saved his life, their dignity be damned.

"Link, stop," she said calmly. "Don't you think he'd have killed you by now? Did you not listen to him? He never meant to. He's already defeated you in battle. His freedom is won."

"And if he lies?" Link demanded. His fingers tightened around Dark's neck. Dark remained impassive, though if Navi had to identify his expression, she would have named sadness.

"You are blinded," Navi said, "By hatred of the Gerudo King. Search his face, Link, and then search yourself! Do you think he lies?"

Navi held her breath. Link paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his rage. For a moment, she was sure he would run them both through. Then he lay his sword aside and relaxed his fingers marginally, but did not release his hold on Dark.

"Tell me why I shouldn't," he said. He was speaking to Dark.

Navi relaxed. She had been travelling with Link long, and had known him from the Deku Tree's telling for longer. Here he was showing who he really was. Link had been raised among Kokiri, and was not a violent man. He had been prone to the rage of a grown Hylian, but had not succumbed to it. He did what was necessary, yes, but by his very nature would seek a way other than death.

And was there a plea in his question? Navi thought there was. By this she was surprised, though not alarmed. The hidden plea in his questions had come up once before, when he had asked Saria, 'Does it have to be this way?' And when she had told him they were fated to live apart, he had not wept, though none would have blamed him. He merely nodded and shouldered that loss, too. Was it so odd that the meanest glimmer of begging would resurface when he dared hope he'd found an ally who would not be taken from him? It was not.

"Ask Ingo," Dark said. "He was freed from his bondage, too, was he not? Is it so surprising that I would rather swear loyalty to the one person that man would not provoke? He fears you! As you hate him, and I fear him, he fears you! Why else all the trickery and temples across Hyrule, in hopes his minions end you before he ever has to try? Why else rob me of what life I would have had? Is it so strange that I would keep company with the only foe he's ever had who stood a chance?"

Link simply stared. Dark was completely unaware he'd just shown any kind of emotion, so quickly did it seize him. He was not even aware he was weeping. Navi retreated to hover outside the window, out of line of sight but easily able to hear. The emotions of young men were an area where she had no wisdom to offer. They would have to work this one out on their own.

"Dark, you…" Link began, and immediately became aware of their proximity. In his haste to attack, he had forced Dark against the edge of the bathtub. He'd been granted a rudimentary (and awkward) explanation of the mechanics of sex by Navi, and a rougher (if not less awkward) education by the carpenters of Kakariko, and then been left to left his hormones sort out the rest. He knew enough to know that they weren't in a position so compromising as it could have been, but just barely.

Dark saw to that. In a display of the most unfortunate timing known to Hyrule, he used Link's momentary lapse in concentration to break his hold, slip behind him, and seize him by the hair. Dark pressed his thumb against Link's throat as if he held a knife, though he did not, his entire front to Links' back. Link was glad Dark could not see his face, for he was blushing with the embarrassment of his previous thoughts, the compromising nature of _this _position, and with sudden alarm.

"If I wanted you dead," Dark hissed into Link's ear, "You'd be dead. Don't you see that?"

And Link _did _see. He saw the knife that Dark had purposefully neglected to pick up sitting on the edge of the tub. He saw the countless times throughout the day when he'd turned his trusting back on Dark, only to keep breathing. And he saw, most importantly, when Dark had rendered him unconscious in the Water Temple and not only left him alive, but left him alone.

"I see," Link said, and tried to relax. But clearly whatever ground he'd gained had been quickly lost, because Dark just hauled him back up until he had to arch his back or lose half his scalp. He knew what was happening. Here was a creature newly exposed to emotion, and it was overwhelming. Link had experienced the same upon awakening to find he'd aged seven years and had suddenly gained some raw edge to every feeling. Dark had been repressed for the last seven years. It must feel the same.

_Oh, if you don't want me dead, it must be just barely, _Link thought, and with a roar of what had to be mingled rage and confusion, Dark turned him and forced him back into the wall at the tub's edge.

Dark's lips were parted as if he had something to say, but he had run out of words. They were nearly nose to nose, and Link could see the mingled fear and fury on Dark's face. And oh, how Link's heart ached for him. He remembered all too well this place, where absolutely nothing made sense, and there was no comfort for him. Navi could not assist, and she was all he had. Fey don't see or feel things the way Hylians do.

On instinct, he very slowly lifted his hand and just as gently swept his fingers across the scar on Dark's ear. This seemed to derail him somehow, and he loosened his grip on Link's shoulders just enough that Link could grip Dark's arms and guide him back into sitting. He sat beside him and let him settle for a moment.

"You get used to it," Link said. "Once it starts coming gradually. It shouldn't take long. "

Dark merely nodded. "I am sorry," he said.

"It is alright," Link replied simply. It was enough.

They sat like that in companionable silence, side by side, lost ground regained and then some.

Outside, Navi retreated to the roof, where Sheik awaited her.

"Strange parade of visitors this place has today," she remarked dryly. Sheik nodded.

"That boy is not Hylian," he said, nodding in the direction of the bathroom window.

"I thought not," Navi said. "What is he?"

Sheik considered a moment. "He is a shade, but of the meanest possible kind. A step higher and he would be true Sheikah. Link, should he find out, would not be pleased to leave him as a shade. Nor would he be nearly as helpful to you as such. As he is now, he is malleable, true, but he is faulty. He lacks the necessary free will to live on his own, or so as not to burden you."

"I know this magic!" Navi hissed. "It is an abomination! Why did I not see it?"

"Save your lament, Navi," Sheik said, but not unkindly. "It was artfully done. None but a Sheikah would see it. The Caster forfeited her life to this shade, but not before Farore had seen fit to call her soul back. To make him complete, the magic must be finished."

"But you have just said the Caster is dead," Navi said.

"So she is. But her kin yet lives, and old magic is blood magic."

"You?" Navi asked. "You're the last."

"No," Sheik said, shaking his head. "I am called 'Survivor' because I survived the massacre at our village. But there are others, sent away to the far reaches of the deserts. I know of one other who remains. She has run mad." He said this last with bitter contempt.

"So the task is lost, then?" Navi asked, crestfallen.

"No," Sheik said again. "Not lost, but it will be a trial. She runs mad because she is too magically skilled for her mortal body. She is still useful in the lost arts, though communication with her will be nigh impossible. Were it anyone but Link, I _would_ count the task lost."

"What must we do?" Navi asked.

"To carry on further, you must make the shade whole. Listen carefully…."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, y'all!**  
**I was thking that the whole 'Dark Link follows Link around for the duration of the OOT timeline' has been done and done to death, so I'm switching it up a bit. This chapter is where we start to make that departure.**

**Also, Sheik does play into romantic (for lack of a better word) aspects of the story, though it remains predominantly a Link/Dark Link fic.**

**Thanks as always to those who read and reviewed. Y'all make me smile :)**

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Link's nights were getting increasingly longer. As much as he dearly would have loved to go to sleep, there was yet work to be done. Dark had said very little after his outburst in the bath, and having never been afforded the luxury of a bed, Link was fairly sure he was asleep the second he collapsed into it. As such, he'd at least have time to conduct his affairs in private, which was a mercy.

He dressed quickly and quietly, thankful that he had at least had the foresight to wash some of his clothing a few days back, prior to entering the water temple, and it had remained clean and dry in Epona's saddlebags until Malon had unloaded them earlier. Chancing a look out the window where Navi was beckoning him, he grabbed a spare blanket off the foot of the remaining bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. It would not do to catch a chill now.

Outside, Navi led him across the corral. In the time they had spent travelling together they'd developed a happy sort of telepathy, a thing which came in handy now: Though neither had spoken it, both understood the need for silence. Sheik perched on the rails of the far side of the enclosure, and though Link was generally happy to see him, he couldn't help but be a bit annoyed, too. Sheik was always gone before half of the questions were answered. As if he'd heard this last, Sheik held up his hands as if in surrender.

"Peace, Hylian, I come with answers," he said. Though he spoke normally, his voice did not carry. Link had once thought this a trick of the Sheikah, but he found he'd learned it, too, on his travels, and Navi had ever known it.

"Am I so transparent?" Link asked, failing to conceal a smile. It was not in his nature to remain at odds with an ally.

"You are," Sheik said. He smiled in his own way, a lightening of the eyes. Link had never seen more of his face than that. They went slightly darker, though, when he spoke again.

"There is the business of the shade."

Link frowned. "Dark," he said. He couldn't fathom why, especially when he had been so ready to brand him such when they had first met, that the word 'shade' had displeased him. He supposed knowing he was more than that made it so. "What business?" he asked, brushing those thoughts aside.

"We cannot begin this way," Sheik said. "It troubles you I refer to him as an inanimate object."

_Goddesses, his intuition cuts to the bone, _Link marveled. "It does," he spoke aloud.

"I speak of him such so that you understand what he is. As of yet, he _is _but a shade. A very real one, yes, but a shade nonetheless. I have spoken to Navi on such matters," Sheik said. If he was at all nervous at Link's glare to the fairy, he was loath to let it show. _He never shows, _Link thought.

"You said 'yet'," Link said. "What does that mean?"

"Navi, if you'll be so patient as to hear it's telling again?" Sheik said. When Navi settled atop Link's head, he continued. "'Dark', as you call him, is the creation of a Sheikah Caster. My forbears were skilled in breathing life and minds into dust, but never such as this. To do what his caster has done is normally forbidden. Do you know the tale?"

"The Lady and her Golem," Link mumbled. It was an old tale, colored by the telling of many an inventive bard, but he knew it from the Deku Tree, and supposed that it was at least marginally accurate. "The Lady's husband died in battle, and she missed him so terribly that she stilled her heart with the blade he had borne and that his comrades returned to her. Her blood spilled upon his visage, carved in the stone of his sarcophagus, and gave it blood of its own. The candle she held warmed its skin, and gave it life even as her own flesh grew cold. When he awoke, the Golem did not know her. He wandered, and eventually died, having never found one to whom he could return the devotion his forgotten Lady had shown him."

"I see the Deku Tree did not neglect your education in history," Sheik said. "That telling is the most complete and accurate I have heard. This is no child's tale. It is truth."

"So say you?" Link asked, cowed. The implications in the fable were immense.

"So I do. The Lady, whose name has been lost to the ages, was the first Caster. The Golem was the first shade. Shades, however, are usually mindless things, cages of emotions. This Dark is not. Do you know why?"

Link numbly shook his head.

"His Caster must have been brilliant," Sheik said bitterly. "Shades are violations of the very laws of nature Nayru put down. Premature death – suicide, if you will – goes against her will. She calls souls home when she sees fit. Hylians and Sheikah alike see fit to thwart her will from time to time, and she lets them wander for a spell in the Blink."

"The Blink?" Link asked.

This time Navi spoke. "The darkness between this world and the Aether, where all who live eventually make their journey to the Sacred Realm. It is a vast and cursed place."

Sheik nodded. "Dark's Caster circumvented this violation. She had already been called to the Aether, and timed her travels so that her Golem, this Dark, would act as a doorway. As she departed, she left her intelligence with him, and when Nayru sent a new soul to ground, he stood ready as the vessel."

"So he is imbued with a soul," Navi breathed in wonder. "None has ever been granted one complete."

"Nor has he," Sheik said, "though his is missing but the tiniest fragment. There is a reason infants are vessels for souls, and the reason magic alone will not kindle a woman, though it does help. These are old laws, old Magic, and there are precious few left who know the paths such power flows. To complete a vessel for a soul requires a masculine aspect. Dark has no father. True though it is that many in Hyrule are raised without one, at some point in every story a father was involved."

"Can we not leave him incomplete, until the task at hand is finished?" Link asked, and hated the words even as they left his mouth. "There is no time."

"The thought displeases you, yes?" Sheik said, When Link didn't answer, he continued. "I can see that it does. Time I can grant you. The trails of this task do not exist in Hyrule. Sheikah know them, and a Sheikah will show them to you. We must find his Caster's last kin. I know her whereabouts, but I will warn you: it will not be easy, nor will the final making be pleasant. _She _is not pleasant."

Did Link see the cowl wrinkle in what had to be a grimace of distaste? He did.

"But the Princess -" he started, but Sheik cut him off.

"Do you think we are not in contact? Princess Zelda knows what is at stake, but she will not thank you to place Ganondorf's strongest pawn right back into his hands!"

"He did not kill me," Link said. Sheik was distressed to hear defiance in that tone.

"Calm, Link," he said. "This I know. This I _saw. _Do not look so surprised. People of the Shadow are no match for elusive shades, for were they not born of shadow themselves? I think that you do not understand why it is so important that this creature be made complete. He follows you, yes. He does so because he lacks enough will of his own to live his life without serving another. Such is the nature of shades that they will always serve the one they served first. It does not matter if he wishes it, it _will _happen. He will return to Ganondorf, because that is the way the old magic is constructed. Unless we endeavor to imbue him with will of his own, for it is that piece of a soul that he lacks."

Link moaned. Ever was there a solution, and ever did it exhaust him. Sheik allowed him this moment of weakness, and allowed himself one of his own.

"Do you think she doesn't trust you? That I don't?" he asked gently.

"Well ye know I do," Navi said bluntly, turning red. "Great fool though ye are; I'm even fond of ye!" When embarrassed, Navi always slipped in her accents, dropping the Royal inflection and picking up the language of the Kokiri again. "And I've now two fools to watch!"

Link tapped her tiny foot with a lazy finger, the only physical gesture of affection he ever used on Navi, owing to her size. She turned redder, and flew toward the farmhouse, mumbling about how she had to look after the other Gods-cussed fool.

Link turned back his attention to Sheik seemingly lazy but in truth sheepish. "I suppose you must," he said, "if you'd entrust me the fate of Hyrule. That's destined, though, isn't it?"

"Never mind 'destined', and Navi speaks true, you are a fool," Sheik said roughly. Link looked up from his bare feet, startled. Sheik came across aloof most of the time, and then when he did speak about topics relating to the heart, such as friendship and love, he was somehow cold and poetic at the same time. Now he was gruff and abrupt. If Link could find words for any of his questions, they were lost to him now.

"Of course I trust you," Sheik growled, sparing him the trouble. "Destiny has nothing to do with it. Nor does my people's servitude to the Royal Family."

Having witnessed both Dark and Sheik in anger this night, and so fresh off a bout of his own, the seal on Link's freshly healed patience broke free and wrath like blood spilled forth again.

"Din take you, speak plainly!" he cried. "Must you always talk in riddles and songs?"

Immediately he regretted it, for Sheik bounded out of reach, sadness clear on his features. Though his mouth might speak in a complicated fashion, his face at least he spoke plain.

"We cannot end this way, either," Link said.

"No," Sheik agreed, "for where we're going we'll need bonds between us, all of us. Should we stand divided, we will fall."

"I would say this is all rather melodramatic, but you're quite serious, aren't you?" Link asked. Sheik returned within arm's reach, but said nothing.

"Can I tell him? What it is we're going to do?" Link asked.

"No. It will drive him to insanity, and then to his ruin as well as ours," Sheik said. Link sighed.

"And I suppose you still can't tell me where the Princess is," he asked, stepping a bit closer to what, until recently, he had thought to be the last Sheikah.

"Also no. She is safe," he said. He sounded bitter.

"And I am not," Link said. He knew the cause of Sheik's bitterness.

"Never in your life," Sheik sighed. "Neither of us. And for that, I grieve."

"You'd grieve anyway, for the spite of it," Link said.

"Do we not have much to grieve for?" Sheik asked.

"We do," Link said, "but much to rejoice in, as well."

Sheik looked at him, incredulous.

"We yet live, do we not?" Link asked, and laughed. Sheik relaxed. Link's gloom had passed, as it always did. He found it increasingly hard to believe Link was as young as he was. That any of them were, really. Seven years ago, before the fall of the Royal Family, eighteen had seemed so _old. _Now that they were on the other side of it, he felt just as lost as he had then. There was no one else, though. Link, Zelda, he, and now this shade named Dark were the last. Any adult they'd ever knew was dead, missing, or some other way incapable of assisting them on the daily. Sages, mostly. And the last who weren't sages were either oblivious to the plight of Hyrule or helpless to defend against it.

_Oh how I grieve for that, _Sheik thought. He did rejoice, though, as Link said. Less that he himself still lived and more that Link did, though whether because all their hopes hinged upon Link or because he had a softer heart than he cared admit, he could not say. Rather, _would _not say. _Complications, _he thought this night, as he did every time this line of thought came up, and attempted to ignore his wayward mind.

"And where are we going?" Link asked, pulling Sheik from his reverie. "Where will we fall if we do not stand together? For that is true here, but you said the trails are not in Hyrule."

Sheik feared the words as he feared their task, but he spoke them anyway.

"I must take you through the Blink."


	6. Chapter 6

**Geez, y'all, I am sorry for being away for so long. I have no good excuse - time just got right away from me. Life happened while I was making other plans, I guess. Anyway, I'll try to be faster going forward. Without further ado:  
**

* * *

Despite having retired immediately after speaking with Sheik, Link nevertheless got very little sleep. He had no shortage of courage, but the Blink was an unknown, and having to travel it with Dark and Sheik together was a bit unsettling. Navi he knew well and trusted better. These two he barely knew, and while he did trust Sheik, he was not yet sure what to make of Dark. As such, what little rest he got was troubled by a vague sense of danger.

He woke before the dawn. Respite was hard to come by in his travels, so even the small amount he had managed was refreshing to him. Dark still slept, and Link was amazed at how very – well, _innocent _– he looked when he was lost to dreams. He shook his head and packed up their things as quietly as he could before dressing and heading outside.

Though Malon was standing ready by Epona, he was not surprised to see her so early. She had an uncanny ability to wake before he did and always would saddle Epona for him before he ever made it outside. He was momentarily shamed, as he always was, by how good to him she was and how little he could offer her in return. _I am far too sentimental this morning, _he thought, and smiled in greeting to her.

"I'd say not to get into any trouble, but I know you will, so just… try not to die, eh?" she said. Her tone was light, but he could see she'd been crying.

"None of us is going to die," Link said, taking her shoulder. "You worry too much." She laughed quietly, mindful of those sleeping in the house.

"I worry enough is all," she said. "Your strange friend, the one with the shielded face, is waiting by the gate. Navi is with him."

"Thank you, Malon," he said, kissing her cheek in a gesture of farewell. "Will you send Dark down?"

"There is no need," said Dark, stepping quickly from the doorway. How long he had been there, Link could not say. "You left this upstairs," he continued, holding out a spare glove that Link would typically wear under his gauntlets. Link took it quickly and stuffed it haphazardly into a saddlebag.

"We'll be off, then," Link said, strapping the last of their gear to Epona. Malon whistled sharply and Abrax shuffled sleepily from the open barn.

"You take care, too," she said to the horse, and then returned her attention to the men in front of her. "And you two take care of each other. I want to see you back here before the season is out!"

Link smiled at her as he and Dark mounted their horses, then lifted a hand to wave as they steered their mounts out of the ranch. Just outside the gate, Sheik and Navi waited, the former on a sable mare Link had never seen before. Dark seemed to be defaulting to the position slightly behind Link, and he could guess why. Sheik was a bit unnerving at first, especially when he was as silent as he was now.

"Dark, this is Sheik. He has been an advisor of sorts on my path and he'll be accompanying us during the trials ahead," Link said. Dark and Sheik nodded at one another, but neither spoke. Navi, as if uncomfortable with this, flew to Link's hat and settled upon it.

"We need to get to Gerudo Valley," she said. "The path we seek lies in the Haunted Wasteland."

"Then we ride," Link said, and spurred Epona westward. The others followed.

Clearly none of the three were used to company during travels, as none of them spoke. The hours passed with the sounds of hoof beats and the creaking of leather, occasionally subdued when they slowed their pace to spare their horses. When the light began to fade, Sheik spoke for the first time that day.

"We camp here," he said. The grass so characteristic of Hyrule Field had given way to dry, yellow patches in rust-colored dust, and his raised hand indicated an overhanging outcrop of rock in the same red color.

"Why, though?" Link asked. "Gerudo Valley isn't so far, and I've ridden by night before."

"You have, but Dark has not," Sheik said. He looked at Dark, his expression unreadable. "And in any case, we will have to navigate the canyon, and that's a task best done by daylight. Further, it would be most unwise to venture into the wasteland, and her territory, in the darkness."

"All right," Link said, dismounting Epona and leading her toward the edge of the space Sheik indicated. He could hear the others behind him following suit.

Dark was closest in step, and lowered his voice before asking, "'Her territory'?" Sheik spared Link the trouble of thinking of a suitable response.

"Irulla of the Wastes," he said. "She is a troublesome thing, but she has knowledge of magic that we will need."

Dark remained silent, but frowned, as if trying to recall a distant memory. Link saw this, and turned to Sheik, but his strange eyes were impassive as always. Frustrated, but averse to showing it, Link set about the business of relieving Epona of the bags she carried that she might rest. There was sudden warm light on her flanks – Sheik had made the night's fire behind him.

"I will never understand how you can do that so quickly," Link said, and found that as he walked closer to the fire, Dark followed.

"It is not so difficult, if you know the spell," Sheik said. His eyes lightened, indicative of a smile beneath the cowl. "Sit, though, if you will. We have things to discuss." He paused, waiting for the others to gather before continuing.

"We must go through the Blink to reach Irulla. Neither of you will have travelled it, so be wary: things are not as they appear there. You will likely see people, and they will likely try to convince you to follow them. No matter their reasons, _do not go with them. _They will purposefully lead you to be lost, and will take you to places I cannot find you. They will be convincing, but know this: whatever their lament, they are already dead, and lost to the Blink themselves. _Do not follow." _At this last, he cast his eyes to Dark and Link in turn, looking for acknowledgement. When they had each nodded in understanding, he began again.

"I may tell you to do things that seem strange to you, or dangerous. You must trust what I tell you, and follow any instruction exactly and without hesitation. The Blink itself will try to fool you, show you things that aren't real, so that it may keep you. If you cannot trust me, the task is lost. Can you do this?" he asked. He looked to Link first, who nodded, resolve plain on his face. He had counted on that. Link had so far followed any advice he'd given him without question, if with a little confusion.

He looked to Dark and fully expected hesitation. He knew he was asking no small thing, to trust a strange man he'd only just met. Yet Dark nodded his affirmation almost as soon as Sheik's eyes landed upon his face, a face that held no sign of suspicion or reluctance. Whether it was Dark's own Sheikah heritage that led him to such faith or Link's show of trust, Sheik did not know, but it mattered little, so long as Dark followed his instruction.

In truth, Dark had two reasons to believe Sheik would not lead them into danger. He had been a captive of Ganondorf's for seven years, and knew the signs of those who served him too well. Sheik bore none of them. Further, Link trusted him, and so, then, did Dark. It did occur to him that people were not divided into 'good' and 'Ganondorf's minions' and that awful people may well exist outside of Ganondorf's influence, but he himself had broken free, so there must be just as many who were just and kind. Link's unquestioning faith in the Sheikah had simply banished any doubt in Dark's mind that Sheik may not be one of these just and kind people.

"Very well," Sheik said. "Go, then, and prepare as you wish, but do not neglect to sleep. You will need your wits about you. I will take the watch."

"Are you sure?" Link asked, standing. "Don't you need to sleep?"

"Not yet," Sheik said. "And though I will need to, I sleep light enough that Navi can easily wake me." As if to prove the point, Navi fluttered from her usual perch under Link's hat to sit on Sheik's shoulder.

At this, Link merely nodded and set off to an empty portion of the field just outside of the fire's light. The moon was sufficient enough to see by this night – the fire was merely for added warmth. Dark followed him, keeping back a decent distance. He observed Link doing a series of drills for a time before he moved a little closer. Link had taught him to ride, and he both owed a return favor didn't find it fitting to allow the other to go into the Blink unprepared.

"Fight me," he said idly, though his weapon was still sheathed on his back. Link paused, lowering his sword and staring at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry?" Link said questioningly.

"There's nothing wrong with how you handle a sword," Dark said. He unbuckled his own and let it fall to the ground along with his shield. "I bested you because you don't know how to avoid a blow without your shield. You have always practiced with your weapon and shield. It is easy to tell, and it's best to learn how to avoid a blow unarmed first."

Link could feel his face burning and he couldn't help but glare. He, like most people, did not like being told his weaknesses, nor reminded of past defeats. He did, however, know that Dark's assessment was accurate, and so he laid his own sword and shield aside. "Alright, show me," he said.

Dark stepped forward and paused for the barest of seconds before making a wide sweep with his left arm toward Link's shoulder. Link raised his arm and took the open-handed blow to the forearm instead. Dark tilted his head, expression blank. "Perhaps I should actually endeavor to hit you? Pain is a good deterrent." Link had the space of a heartbeat to register horror at how nonchalantly Dark stated this and to wonder again at the atrocities he'd endured before Dark set upon him again.

Sheik and Navi sat watching, forgotten by the dueling pair. They observed in silence as Link dodged again and again, occasionally successful at avoiding a strike, often not.

"This is tragic," Sheik mumbled. "Link should be better than that."

"No," Navi said. "Let him be poorer at it. Better that than what the other pitiful creature has suffered."

Sheik was silent for a moment, regarding the pair with a distant breed of sadness. "The Goddesses can be cruel, can't they?"

"Yes," Navi said, her color darkening towards fuchsia. "You're all children. Link, burdened with the title 'Savior' before he was ever old enough to shoulder it, sealed away for seven years before They'd allow him to take it. Dark, stolen and shattered, and rebuilt by a monster. Zelda, hidden away to watch her Kingdom collapse while she could only watch in silent anguish. And you, torn from the only semblance of peace you've ever known to brave the horrors Ganondorf released into the temples, just to give what little advice you are allowed. You are all blameless, yet you were all forced to bear more than anyone should be made to. _That _is tragic."

"I am glad I can be of help," Sheik said, but Navi laughed harshly.

"That's the only thing ye're glad for," she said, dropping into the Kokiri accent again. "You weren't but a child of twelve when you were called to Zelda's side, and I know ye've endured more than ye care to say."

Sheik merely looked at her, his face blank. Her light shuddered and returned to a soft pink again.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You never complain. Nor does Link. You put me to shame."

"No, Navi. I think we are just too stupid to know that we should," Sheik said. Navi regarded him sadly for a moment before turning her attention to the watch. There was nothing she could do to lessen the weight of their tasks, no way to appeal to the Goddesses that set them upon their respective paths, and she hated it. So she just peered around the camp, hoping to alert them to any potential threats before they became too real. She could at least allow Sheik some rest.

Link, in the meantime, was slowly improving. He dodged blows to the shoulder, hip, and face, one after the other, and was on the verge of triumph when he realized with dismay what Dark had intended. He tried to step forward to avoid the inevitable, but too late – Dark had closed the distance between them Link had created by dodging backwards, neatly hooking his leg behind Link's to use his own momentum against him. He fell into the dirt.

"How did I beat you?" Dark asked. It wasn't a spiteful question; he was being quite literal, asking Link to point out what had caused him to lose. He stood over Link and offered him a hand up as if to prove he meant no malice. Link sat up and took the offered hand, but rather than using it as leverage to pull himself upright, he reached out quickly with his free hand to grab the back of Dark's knee and pull him forward. A quick push of Dark's opposite shoulder and a swing of Link's leg saw Dark on his back and Link atop him, pinning him there.

"You didn't," Link hissed. It was childish, and somewhere in his mind he knew it, but Dark's impassive responses had sparked some fury in him, and he had pinned him hoping to elicit a reaction other than indifference. It was a behavior Navi had tried her best to teach him out of: everyone in his world reacted to him stoically, so when he found anyone who didn't, he reveled in any kind of emotional response. It was yet another by-product of his fate. He was treated like the Hero of Time and not like a flesh and blood Hylian, the man barely out of adolescence that he was. She hadn't seen him lose his temper nearly as many times as he had since finding Dark, though, and she wasn't sure why. Link could have supplied half the answer, had she asked: Dark was a living reminder of the people he'd failed by being sealed away for seven years. Regardless of the fact his stasis was involuntary, he held himself accountable for the lives destroyed in the interim, including Dark's. From there, Navi could have surmised that Link's temper came from his inability to articulate this properly: rage turned inward and, finding the target already sufficiently shamed, turned outward again.

As such, when Dark's calm demeanor didn't change, despite the enraged Hylian straddling his hips, Link gave a frustrated growl and took Dark's wrists as he attempted to sit up, slamming and holding them to the ground above his head. Dark cast his eyes to the side to see if Navi or Sheik had noticed this turn of events, but Sheik appeared to be dozing and whether or not Navi was watching was anyone's guess. Given that Link's wrath was at Dark's refusal to acknowledge him as something other than a heroic avatar, he had glanced away at the worst possible moment. Link's fingers bit painfully into the flesh of his wrists, and he finally did get his response.

Dark looked back to Link, and though he remained silent, his face told a story his mouth could not. Written there was fear, but blended with it and even more apparent was a stark look of longing. Had Link not been so absorbed in the sentiment behind the expression himself, he might have recognized it: the need to be acknowledged as a living being, poorly translated on a face unused to displaying the thoughts of the person to which is belonged.

It was enough to startle Link out of the red edges of rage, but only just so far as to realize that he had once again placed them into a compromising position. Instead of breaking his focus, though, it served to make it stronger this time. He was suddenly all too aware of the heat of the skin beneath his fingers and the texture of the fabric that served as the only barrier between them. Link could feel Dark's pulse under his thumb and was astonished to find a hunger similar to that portrayed on the shade's face building inside him. He had never in his life formed any kind of enduring affection for anyone, having learned fast that he stood apart from the rest of this world. Was it so odd, then, that he would want so fiercely a connection with a person whose story mirrored his own? His rage, as if cowed, finally subsided.

"We are the same, you and I," he said, loosening his grip but not letting Dark up. "We lose ourselves in the roles demanded of us."

Dark was silent for a moment, seeking the right words, wanting Link to let him loose and fearing it at the same time. He possessed no real concept of connection himself, having lacked any kind of proper teacher, and Link was only slightly better educated that he was. To them it was a glorious, frightening unknown they could just as easily lose themselves in.  
"I know who you are," Dark said quietly. _You want so badly to be what everyone wants you to be, because it would mean you wouldn't be afraid, and you wouldn't have to carry the weight of your fears, as well as everyone else's. But we're just as lost as everyone else, _he thinks. To his immense relief and horrible dismay, Link shifted his grip to hold both of Dark's wrists in one hand and placed the other against his pale cheek, studying him.

"I believe you. And I think I know who you are," Link said. _You're just as lost as I am. _He opened his mouth again as if he would say more, but was interrupted by the sound of a wolfos howling far too close.

The moment was lost in a flurry of movement as they scrambled to pick up the weapons they'd so carelessly flung aside. They were up, then, back to back and ready to defend, but there was no sign of the wolfos, or any other creature at all.

"Sound travels oddly near the canyon," Sheik called out just as suddenly from the fire. "You should sleep, both of you." If he'd seen any of their interaction, his voice betrayed no feelings on it. Nor did he seem to care too terribly about the potential proximity of the monster.

Dark and Link looked at each other briefly and looked away just as fast, neither acknowledging what just occurred, or caring to explore the implications of their actions, to them or their enigmatic companion who may have been watching all along. Clearly Sheik was unconcerned, and so they relaxed marginally, shuffling in an almost embarrassed manner back to camp. Link, for his own part, was mostly shamed that he'd acted so rashly, though Dark was more troubled by the weight of those actions. He would not say so to Link, though – he could not be certain it was even worth troubling himself over, being so new to interaction, and did not wish to make a further nuisance of himself.

Though they heeded Sheik's advice and retired to their respective bedrolls for the night, it was a long time before either slept, kept awake by their own persistent thoughts.


End file.
